Attack of the Clichés
by the mean spleen
Summary: There's some naughtiness in here but it's all in good taste, if that's possible.


Disclaimer: The evolved X-Men are all copyrighted by a faceless company.  
  
Author's Note: This is my first Evolution fic and indeed fic of any kind for a couple of months. If anybody thinks I making a particular dig at them, believe me I'm not and I'm as guilty as the next person of writing complete cliché jobs from time to time. Anyway I hope you enjoy it. Keep it frosty, cheers.  
  
  
X-Men Evolution - Attack Of The Clichés  
  
  
  
Scott Summers wanted a quiet day of doing nothing. And come hell or high water he was going to get it. He knew that some obstacles were bound to arise, it was the nature of the business he was in, but he would crush each challenge in short order.  
  
Rising quickly from his bed, he put on his glasses, threw on the same clothes he always, and I do mean always, wears and stuck out his chin.   
  
"As a member of the X-Men, bring it on."  
  
He shook his head sadly. Well that just sounded stupid. From now on, he wasn't going to preface any statements with "As a member of the X-men."  
  
Satisfied that he had just made a step in the right direction, he left his room.  
  
Outside, Jean was passing by on her way to the breakfast table. Seeing Scott, she stopped and slowing time, tossed her hair back over her shoulder.  
  
"Hi, Jean," Scott opened, unable to hide his boredom at her showboating.  
  
"Hello Scott," she replied sultrily as she shoved her chest in his face. "I just wanted you to know up front that I'm off to engage in deviant activities with Duncan Matthews."  
  
"Alrighty then," Scott replied nonchalantly, having come to the conclusion in a past life that Jean was a complete and utter slut.  
  
Jean frowned at Scott's apparent lack of interest and decided she'd have to run off to find something more revealing to wear.  
  
"Jean," Scott called after her.  
  
Jean turned triumphantly. He was still under her spell after all.  
  
"Umm, ahh, I was just wondering how you manage to run in sandals."  
  
Though slightly annoyed that he wasn't falling at her knees begging to worship at the temple of her body, she thought about his question. She decided she may as well tell him what she had concluded a long time ago.  
  
"I'm Jean Grey, I can do anything."  
  
Fearing that she might break into song about how utterly fantastic she was, Scott settled for a simple, "Fair enough."   
  
"You're sure that there's nothing else you want to ask me," Jean whispered seductively as she absently played with the belt of his pants.  
  
"No, that's pretty much it," Scott replied with a shrug as he absently swatted her hand away.  
  
"Fine then, be that way," Jean shouted and stormed off.  
  
Scott sighed. The sooner some sucker married her, the better off he would be. Hell, the better off everyone, everywhere would be.  
  
  
  
Elsewhere...  
  
  
  
"I did it all for the nookie, the nookie, so you can take that cookie...," Lance sang happily to himself as he did the dishes.  
  
"Did he say I could take a cookie?" Fred asked, poking his head up from the book he was reading; "Cooking for Twenty, Eating For One."  
  
"Nah, he's still on a high 'cause he got a little kitty last night," Pietro said with a knowing smile as he admired himself in the full length mirror.  
  
"Hmmm, why he'd pick Kitty over me, I'll never know," Pietro thought to himself as he sucked in his cheeks to get better definition on his face. "Hell, why would Kitty choose Lance or for that matter how anyone could choose another when I'm around."  
  
Todd hopped down into the kitchen and over to where Lance was still humming away to himself.  
  
"Yo, Lance, yo, did I ever say yo once in the show, yo?"  
  
"Huh?" Lance asked, shaken from his happy place.  
  
"Never mind, yo." Todd replied, shaking his head.  
  
Lance suddenly through down the his gloves and sighed slightly as they fell into the soapy water.  
  
"Man, I shouldn't be doing this sort of menial work...we got get ourselves OC."  
  
"Whose OC?" Fred asked.  
  
"An Original Character. Their powers have just emerged and they're all confused so they join up. Hilarity or tragedy ensues depending on a few salient features." Todd explained before suddenly remembering he had forgotten something, "oh yeah, yo."  
  
Pietro, who was smiling and pointing at himself in the mirror spoke over his shoulder at them, "Or alternatively they have no powers at all and we just need lodgers. But because we're the heroes and handsome and stuff they have to do all the rubbish stuff while we bake cookies, look after babies, get jobs, fail spectacularly with pets or something else mundane."  
  
"Oh," Fred nodded, suitably enlightened.  
  
Todd looked at his watch, "Hey, it's about that time. We'd better go over to the X-Geek's mansion for a fight."  
  
With assorted groaning and mumbling, the brotherhood roused themselves to head out and get beaten up...again.  
  
  
  
Elsewhere.....  
  
  
  
"But why are you in the closet?" Xavier asked for the second time.  
  
A muffled voice responded from the closet, "It's the only place with any shadows and as no one is allowed see me, so I had to go in here. Of course the latch would have to be wooden. Just pretend you can only see my eyes and it'll work."  
  
"Well, that explains that, I guess," Xavier thought to himself. "So what is it you wanted to talk to me about Eric?"  
  
"Well, I was talking to Doc Oc, Doc Doom, Doc Sinister, and Doc Zhivago and they all agree it's time that you wore a cloak."  
  
"A cloak?"  
  
"Yes, every good villain has a cloak," Eric replied.  
  
"But I'm not a villain."  
  
"Still bringing the funny, eh Charles. Well you are a villain, or at least _they_ think you are and in this world of prejudice, yadda, yadda, yadda, _they_ have all the power."  
  
"So I need a cloak?"  
  
"Yes, a cloak is the one thing you need to be a villain. And a menacing laugh. A cloak and a menacing laugh are the two things you need. And nameless and utterly useless henchmen. The three things you need to be villain of the week are a cloak, the laugh, and henchmen. Plus the really annoying habit of making huge long pointless speeches-"  
  
"I don't think a cloak will look good on the wheelchair." Charles interrupted, knowing that Eric could go on for days if allowed.  
  
"Nonsense. Tie it to the back and let it bellow out behind you."  
  
"It might get caught under the wheels."  
  
"Listen, do you want to be a villain or not. A villain's cloak is his signature, his nom de plus, his bete noir, his very j'taime."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Oh, nothing," Eric sighed.  
  
"You've become very mouthy Eric," Charles noted.  
  
"Well on the show in which I _act_, they only let me say the odd word here and there. It's nice to get the chance to orate once in a while."  
  
"What show is that?"  
  
"It's on another network, O' Neill, I mean Charles."  
  
"Okay."  
  
There was silence between them for a few minutes.  
  
"You wouldn't mind opening the latch and turning around while I sneak out," Eric asked hopefully.  
  
"Fine," Charles replied as he unlatched the closet.  
  
"Muhahahhahah," Eric laughed, "until next time."  
  
  
  
Elsewhere......  
  
  
  
Scott marched down the stair to where Kurt and His Comedy Accent (TM) were having a discussion with Evan, who was busy stuff wedges of chesse down his throat.  
  
"Ah gud morning, Scott."  
  
"Hey Kurt," Scott replied.  
  
"Eh bro, I saw that homegirl Jean, she be looking fly, dawg," Evan said to Scott.  
  
"What's up with Evan?" Scott asked Kurt.  
  
"Well, the only distinguishing things about him are his need for daily products and his gang origins."  
  
"Gang origins?"  
  
"I be down with dat," Evan responded as he slurped on a yoghurt.  
  
Just then the front door flung itself open and the brotherhood stood assembled in full battle gear, ready to fight.  
  
"It's time to rock, X-Geeks," Lance announced before waving at Kitty, "Hey sweetcakes, love you."  
  
"Like, he is so, like bodacious," Kitty told Kurt who rolled his comedy eyes.  
  
"Go away, I'm not in the mood," Scott said as he waved a hand at them and started walking off.  
  
"Hey Summers, you too chicken to fight me?" Lance challenged.  
  
Scott turned, started to shake slightly before he burst out laughing. He started laughing so hard that he had to prop himself against a wall.  
  
"What the hell are you laughing at?" Lance asked, growing irritated.  
  
It took Scott a moment or two to control himself enough to get out an answer  
  
"I've fought Sentinels, Apocalypse, numerous other megalomaniacs, died a couple of times and saved the world more then once and the best they could come up with is you. Guys whose main claim to fame is defacing the school toilets." Scott shook his head. "You'll have to excuse me if I don't run away just yet."  
  
"Hey, shut up, I'm meant to be the anti-Scott," Lance announced somewhat too proudly.  
  
"Well, for a guy who wears a fish bowl for a helmet, that's something to be proud of," Scott said sarcastically. "I'll tell you what, why don't you just go now so there's no fighting and I don't have to make a stupid speech after we win about how great it is to be part of team."  
  
"That sounds like a good deal, " Todd advised Lance.  
  
"Yeah, take it Alvers, I want to go put highlights in my hair." Pietro added, checking to ensure there was no dirt under his nails.  
  
Fred just stood there because that's all he ever really did.  
  
"Fine, we'll go," Lance said sourly before blowing Kitty a kiss and turning to regard Rogue. "Come back with us Rogue, you're really one of us, you know."  
  
Rogue took one look at the Anti-Scott and one look at the real thing .  
  
"Ah think Ah'll stay. They got cable."  
  
Lance shrugged and left with the others.  
  
"Ah'm never going to find a good man." she announced somewhat sadly while looking Scott directly in the eyes or at least face.  
  
Just then the front door opened and a suave card shark entered, his eyes glinting with southern promise.  
  
"Looks like that be my cue. Eh cher, c'est moi, Remy."  
  
"Oh great." Scott rubbed his forehead in frustration. He knew that the Cajun was bound to appear sooner or later, usually it involved Rogue and well...that was it really. Another case of a mysterious mutant who Rogue stumbles across while doing something stupid. Angsty love ensues in the mansion as Gambit pursues the untouchable Rogue while she acts all fluffy, coy and conflicted. That he could do without, right now.  
  
"Yo man, who's Remy and what's he doing in our crib?" Evan said as he downed another gallon of milk while making furious hand gestures with his free hand to show that he was still down with it.  
  
"You ever seen Pepe Le Peu? Well picture a southern version of him with a coat and that's Remy pretty much summed up." Scott said with a shrug.  
  
"You wound me, mon amis."  
  
"Seriously Remy, I don't think you'd be too happy here."  
  
"Don't even try it, Summers. Remy seen how sweet you got it. First they dump me out of the movie and then out of the new cartoon. There's a whole generation of young girls out there who haven't got the chance to see Remy in action. Non, I'm making a stand."  
  
"Remy, have you seen what the Professor has done to Logan? Remember how he used fight people in cages for money and stuff."  
  
"I didn't see the movie," Remy pouted, crossing his arms in front of him.  
  
"How did you know I was talking about the movie?" Scott asked.  
  
"Fine, so I saw it all right," Remy responded defensively.  
  
"Anyway," Scott continued, "Logan was a complete badass. Now he gives the kids cute nicknames like elf and half-pint and the only time he shows any aggression at all is when Kurt uses his powers at the dinner table. I'm telling you Xavier's had him neutered. Just think what he'll do to you."  
  
At that very moment, Logan appeared in the hall wearing an apron and carrying a tray of freshly baked brownies (the X-FanFic food of choice)  
  
"Get'em while they're hot," he bellowed.  
  
This caused Remy to halt. Logan was a man he had always respected, whose feral nature was legendary throughout the whole universe (well comic universe anyway). When he thought about it now, this cartoon version of him did seem like a complete wuss.  
  
"Maybe you right, Summers." He turned to regard Rogue, who had been watching the exchange silently. "Remy see you in the sequel, cher."  
  
And with that he twirled his coat and exited the door as quickly as he could, fearful that chromedome may already be laughing manically with some diabolical plan to neuter him.  
  
"Like, whatever." Kitty said as she turned her nose up at the events in the hall. She was too busy deciding whether she would next do (a) some valley girlish thing (b) gush about Lance (c) flirt outrageously with Kurt, or (d) go find Logan just to call him "Mr. Logan".  
  
Scott turned and pointed a finger at her.  
  
"I swear to God if Pete Wisdom or Colossus walks through the door, I'm leaving," he warned.  
  
"Yo homes, who are Pete Wisdom and Colossus?" Evan asked as he finished milking a cow.  
  
Scott turned angrily on Evan.  
  
"Evan, would you ever quit it with the gang lingo. You use a skateboard for Christ's sakes and you've got about as much street cred as Al Gore."  
  
"Damn homes, no need to get down on me, like that." Evan retorted between more mouthfuls of cheese.  
  
Scott was rolling his eyes when there was a knock at the door. Expectantly, they all turned to watch another stranger walk through.  
  
"Hi, I'm Jubilee, where's Logan?" the young girl asked.  
  
"That's it, I'm going back to bed." Scott announced, throwing his arms in the air.  
  
"Yo Blue, what's up with my homeboy." Evan asked Kurt.  
  
"I don't know. This must be angst fic."  
  
"Well that would explain that then."  
  
  
  
The End (And I didn't even get the chance to mention the whole Xavier is living through Jean theory, oh well, next time maybe)  
  



End file.
